


All Patched Up

by outoftheashesrising



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Work In Progress, season 10, very brief mentions of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2020-12-28 23:41:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21145169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outoftheashesrising/pseuds/outoftheashesrising
Summary: “ He didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that she wasn’t getting any better, or the fact that she was hiding it from him.”Following the events of 10.3 “Ghosts”





	1. Chapter 1

Daryl had been through hell and back. And then the dead started walking, and hell became just another stop on the roadmap to oblivion. 

Saying things were bad was the understatement of the damn century, but he came to rely on the few constants in the ever changing shit storm that was now his life; his tracking skills, the fact that if things were looking up it was bound to come crashing down sooner rather than later, and Carol. _Carol_. There was something about her that made Daryl forget that they were getting closer and closer to the end of the world. Made him long for more time, more time to spend with her, just being in her presence. She had an effect on him that no one else had. They could sit in silence together for hours, and he’d feel a calm that he’d never experienced before. He felt safe. He felt at home. He’d like to think that he had a similar effect on her. That she could take solace in his company, see him as a refuge in times of crisis. But he was wrong. 

He didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that she wasn’t getting any better, or the fact that she was hiding it from him. Daryl was usually the first person she’d go to. Whether she needed help, needed to vent, or needed a shoulder to cry on, Carol knew she could confide in him. But now it seemed like she was shutting him out. Placating him with the hollow responses she doled out to the rest of the group. “I’m fine.” “It’s not a problem anymore.” “I just need some time to myself.” 

Daryl could see through the bullshit, of course. He’d known her long enough to tell when she was struggling. But he felt powerless to help her. How do you help someone who thinks they don’t need it? 

————

She hadn’t changed her dressing. He could tell that she was trying to hide it underneath her shirt, but he had seen it as she rolled up her sleeves to start on dishes, seen the blood stains he had first noticed 3 days earlier. He didn’t think she was eating, either. She was the last to sit at the table, and the first to leave, eager to start clearing dishes. And God knows she still wasn’t sleeping. She told them she got rid of the pills, that she was sleeping better than she had in weeks. But he could hear the timer ticking away in her room, could see the bags under her eyes getting more and more prominent. She was becoming a ghost. 

“Why don’t you sit down a second” he tried to make his tone as even as possible. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and force her into a seat, wanted to yell at her for not taking care of herself. But he knew that would be the end. She’d either scream back at him and go off on her own again, or she’d feed him the same lies she’d been telling everyone else, adopting a mask that sent chills down his spine. He didn’t know which he’d prefer. 

“I’m fine.” She didn’t look up as she continued to tend to the dishes alone, having sent anyone who offered to help away. 

“At least let me help you then.” He grabbed at the dish cloth draped over her shoulder, and she clumsily reached for it back. 

“You’re off your game. On a good day you could have dropped me to the floor for pulling that. You need sleep.” He didn’t want to start things, didn’t want to drive her away, but she was scaring him. He could see that her hands were shaking, and she had one hand firmly on the counter, as if it was the only thing keeping her upright. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Like hell you are.” He hadn’t set out to start a full fledged intervention, but he figured he might as well say what he needed to say before she inevitably shut him out. 

“You need to sleep. And eat. You look like shit.” He was through mincing words. 

“Daryl we’re not doing this right now.” Her voice was low and clipped, like the words she spoke caused her pain. “Leave me be.” 

He knew that they were both seconds away from losing what little composure they had left. So against his better judgment, he placed the dishcloth on the counter and walked away. _If she wants to kill herself, so be it. _

————

“Have you seen Carol?” Michonne looked worried as she approached him. “I don’t think she came down for breakfast.” 

“Have you knocked on her door?” It wasn’t unusual for Carol to skip meals, especially breakfast. 

“She didn’t answer.”

It wasn’t unheard of for Carol to go off without being noticed. She could have easily snuck out during the breakfast rush and gone hunting. _Or looking for Alpha._

“Maybe she slept in.” He knew it was unlikely, but somehow saying it out loud made it a possibility. “I’ll go check on her.”

Michonne thanked him as he went upstairs, hoping in vain that he’d find his best friend sleeping soundly in her bed. 

“Carol!” No response. 

“Carol it’s almost noon, just wanna make sure you’re okay in there.” Silence. 

_Fuck it_ he thought to himself as he opened the door, bracing himself for whatever lied beyond it. 

He glanced into the room, all hopes that he would find his friend sleeping soundly dashed as his gaze fell to the foot of the bed.

“Fuck. Michonne!” He yelled as he ran to where Carol laid on the floor, unmoving. 

“Come on Carol, open your eyes”. He grasped at her arm, gently shaking her. “Come on you gotta wake up.” She was breathing, _thank God_, but she remained still, completely oblivious to the man yelling directly at her. 

“I’ll get Siddiq.” He hadn’t noticed Michonne come into the room,but he was grateful for her quick thinking. 

“Don’t try and move her, we don’t know if she hit anything when she fell.” And with that Daryl was alone once again, his unconscious friend lying beside him. 

It took all of his willpower to leave her lying there on the floor. He wanted to pull her into his arms, cradle her, tell her that it was all going to be okay. But that could hurt her more. So Daryl sat crouched beside her, his hand on her shoulder. 

“Come on you gotta wake up.” Her skin was warm and clammy, sweat collecting in beads on her forehead. “Siddiq’s gonna come and make sure you’re all right. You gotta wake up and show him you’re okay.” 

There was no response. No hint of movement. His hopes that she’d suddenly wake up and wipe away his tears, chide him for making a fuss, were quickly diminishing. 

“Carol you gotta come back.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl wasn’t much for prayer. Or wishing. Or “putting it out into the universe” like those hippy types were fond of saying. He wasn’t a pessimist by any means, he just knew that what would happen would happen. There was no way to sway the outcome. But as Siddiq pushed him out of the way to get to Carol, he found himself praying to whatever or whoever would listen for his friend’s safety. He didn’t care what he’d have to do, say a hundred Hail Marys, devote the rest of his life to some deity, hell he’d sacrifice a damn goat if it meant that the woman he cared for more than anyone in the world would be okay. 

Daryl watched as Siddiq pinched at Carol’s earlobe and rubbed his fist vigorously on her chest, and it felt like his damn heart was being ripped out of his chest when she didn’t so much as move a muscle in response. 

  
  


Siddiq had examined her quickly on the floor before instructing Michonne and Daryl on how to gently carry Carol to the bed. 

He tried not to think about how light she was as he supported her torso, making sure her body was level during the transfer. 

He watched intently as her body met the bed, hoping for even the smallest movement, a little reassurance that she was going to be okay. She remained eerily still, the subtle rise and fall of her chest the only sign that she was alive. 

He stayed out of the way, off to the side as Siddiq began to work on Carol, pinching at her skin and running his hands up her arms before inserting a small needle into her uninjured arm. It physically pained Daryl to see her like this, so pale and lifeless, but he couldn’t risk looking away for fear that she’d slip away from him. As long as he could see the now slightly more rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, he’d be okay. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Daryl was trying to be patient, trying not to interfere while Siddiq worked, but his best friend had been unconscious for god knows how long and had he still had no idea what was going on. 

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” 

Darly could tell by Siddiq’s clipped response that his questions were not welcome. He needed answers, needed reassurance, but distracting the person who had Carol’s life in his hands was not the way to achieve that. He bit his tongue and started to pace, his eyes still fixed on the unconscious woman as he clenched his fists and walked purposelessly to the opposite wall. It took all his strength not to haul off and punch the wall.  _ Carol would kick my ass if I put a hole in her wall _ , Daryl thought to himself, a small smile appearing on his face.

How he longed for her to wake up, even if it was just to tell him off and give him shit. The thought that he may never get to experience that again was too much to handle.  _ She’s still here. Still breathing. Siddiq’s helping her.  _ He repeated the mantra over and over in his head, willing the dark thoughts away.  _ She’s still here.  _

——————-

In hindsight, it took Siddiq a hell of a lot longer than he expected to kick Daryl out of the room, finally having had enough of his pacing and questions. He would have put up a fight, if Michonne hadn’t gently yet firmly guided him out the door before he had a chance to start anything. 

“Let him help her.” 

He wanted to push her away and run right back into the room, but he didn’t. He wanted to kick the whole goddamn door down, but he didn’t. 

“You’re no help to her in there. Once Siddiq is done with her, that’s when she’ll need you.”

He knew she was right. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was nothing Daryl could do right now to make Carol better. He reluctantly sat on the floor, allowing his muscles that he hadn’t realized he’d been tensing to finally relax. 

He’d been with Carol through thick and thin, but this was different. Carol was the one who made sure he was eating, who kissed his forehead when he was injured, was always there to offer comfort when he needed it.  _ If this were me, Carol never would have let it get this far,  _ Daryl thought to himself. He’d known something was wrong, that she wasn’t doing well.  _ And I just sat there and let her destroy herself.  _

When she woke up,  _ if she woke up,  _ things would be different. He refused to stand by and let her waste away. He was ready to go full mother hen, dote on her until she threw her knife at him. She was going to get better, whether she liked it or not. 

—————

  
  


“She’s okay.” 

  
  


Daryl waited impatiently for Siddiq to continue before he let himself feel any form of relief. 

“I don’t think she has a head injury, but I’ll keep a close eye on her  just in case.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Daryl knew what the likely answer would be, but he needed to hear Siddiq say it. 

“Exhaustion, dehydration, the cut on her arm is infected, too. She’s in rough shape, but she’s stable.” 

Daryl let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

“She awake?”

Siddiq shook his head. “She came to not too long ago, but she’s sleeping now.”

Before Daryl could yell at him for not coming to get him the second she opened her eyes, Siddiq continued.

“She was out of it, didn’t know what was going on, it took her a minute to figure out where she was. I didn’t want to overwhelm her.” 

Siddiq’s explanation did nothing to calm the growing panic Daryl was experiencing. 

“You saying she’s got brain damage?” 

Daryl had seen more than his fair share of terrible, unspeakable things, but he could imagine few scenarios more terrifying than Carol looking at him, her pale blue eyes showing no hint of recognition. 

“She was just disoriented. Like I said before, I don’t think she had a head injury. It’s normal for people to be a little out of it after something like that. We just need to take things slow with her, make sure she doesn’t over exert herself.”

Daryl would have laughed if he wasn’t still so terrified. Carol was good at so many things. Taking it easy was not one of them. 

“You can sit with her if you want, just let her sleep. She’ll wake up when she’s ready.” 

————

He knew he needed to sleep, and he would, as soon as he could verify with his own eyes that the woman who meant so much to him was okay. He’d been staring at her for what seemed like hours. He wanted, needed her to wake up, but he was terrified of what would happen when she did. He didn’t dare try and wake her himself, remembering Siddiq’s warning that she would wake up when she was ready. So he continued to sit in the uncomfortable chair he had moved next to her bed, terrified that any sudden movement he made would cause her to wake prematurely. 

Siddiq had come in to check on her briefly, and satisfied with his findings, had left again, instructing Daryl to call for him when she was awake. 

She had begun to stir, and Siddiq had assured Daryl that it wouldn’t be long before she’d be awake. 

———-

He thought he’d imagined it at first. He had been so focused on watching her, studying every minute movement, it made sense that he looked away for a second his mind would start playing tricks on him. He waited with bated breath, completely frozen, when he heard it again. He shot out of his chair and was at Carol’s side in a fraction of a second, grasping her hand and whispering words of comfort as he heard another soft cry come from her lips. 

“Hey, Carol it’s okay. You’re safe, you gotta stop moving though, okay?”

She was starting to flail her arms, and he was worried that she’d rip her IV out. 

“you’re gonna hurt yourself!” He tried to hold her arm down as carefully as possible, not wanting to bring up any unpleasant memories. “You’re safe, Siddiq’s gonna come check on you soon.”

She started to settle, and he slowly loosened his grip on her uninjured arm, running his hand up and down the length of her arm in an attempt to calm her. 

“You’re gonna be okay.”

He didn’t know if he was trying to reassure her or himself. 

“Daryl?”

Her voice was soft and gravely, but it was the best damn thing he’d heard all day. 

He was still terrified beyond belief, about her, about the future, their future, but he was filled with an overwhelming sense of relief.

“Welcome back.” 

  
  



End file.
